


Veteran of the Psychic Wars

by BaeLanna



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/F, F/M, Love and Loss, Temporal Prime Directive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:15:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22069882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaeLanna/pseuds/BaeLanna
Summary: How much emotional damage can be done before wild steps are taken?
Relationships: Chakotay/Seven of Nine, Kathryn Janeway/Seven of Nine
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Veteran of the Psychic Wars

The celebration was for them. An evening sky full of dazzling fireworks, as far as the eye could see. But after nearly 25 years stranded on the wrong side of the galaxy, and after enduring more losses than any of them was able yet to fully comprehend, the diminished Voyager crew's long-awaited return to Earth was more solemn of an occasion than its greying Captain could ever have predicted.

Her crew was broken. They had suffered the trauma of being separated from their loved ones, possibly forever, back when the newly promoted Kathryn Janeway had made the fateful decision to destroy their route home, and rescue one new alien race from another. And over the decades which followed, they had formed familial bonds with their fellow officers, only to see so many of those fellow officers perish whilst fulfilling their duties in pursuit of their long journey back to Federation space.

The crew who had survived would now live with the scars of veterans of a thousand wars. But Janeway, a thin and embittered Starfleet Captain now in her mid-60s, was already questioning whether it was possible to change past events.

She wanted more than anything to fix her mistakes. Too many good people had died as a result of her foolishness. Seven of Nine had died…  
and her closest friends were suffering. But the temporal prime directive seemed, for once, to be too important to ignore. She knew how dangerous it was to meddle with the past.

"Commander…" Kathryn said calmly, turning her head towards a similarly greying Chakotay, who stood motionlessly in front of chair on the bridge.

His eyes watched the starship's warm reception with a despair which mirrored the Captain's own. Stepping towards him, her voice died momentarily in her throat. Her sad eyes met his. To his dismay, he noticed she was crying.

"Ka-" he began in a gentle voice, but the Captain interrupted him, "You… You have the bridge."

She was pleading with him, and Chakotay nodded. She grasped his forearm in appreciation. 

Lowering her head, she turned on her heels and stormed towards the shelter of her ready room.

"Computer, seal the doors…"

The computer obliged with a note of acknowledgement.

Kathryn's trembling legs threatened to give way beneath her. Her chest constricted with the suppressed grief of so many years guilt, and fury. And heartbreak.

She wanted to be sick. Beyond the boundaries of the starship which had carried them for so long were the lights and lives of their home species, of the people of Earth.

She doubled over, whimpering as she tried to contain her sobs, and clambered towards her desk.

She could not attempt to change the past, she should not…

Lowering her shaking body to the floor, she curled into a ball against the cold draws of her workstation, still full of relics from a life in space which she had chosen and so many times regretted.

Her eyes and nose streaming, her throat clenching, she remembered the perfect face of the woman she had loved, and allowed to die following an indulgent and totally unnecessary away mission.

It had been the younger Captain Janeway's insatiable desire for continued exploration and scientific discovery which had ensured, she would only admit in later years, the unnecessary mortal peril of each crew member she had ordered to leave the safety of the spaceship to go exploring in a shuttle.

Seven's fatal injuries were sustained as she carried out one such mission on Janeway's orders. Her death would become the most pivotal of moments in Kathryn's already troubled life history. 

Never again would she be able to laugh or smile without remembering the indescribable happiness she had felt after having first witnessed Voyager's resident ex-Borg first pull a smile. Nor could she ever forget the indescribable devastation which burned through her when Seven of Nine, in her husband Chakotay's arms, had saved a small smile for the Captain she had so respected, before turning to her husband, gripping his arm weakly, and slowly letting life fade from her. 

Kathryn heaved a high whine. Pushing her white-knuckle fist into her mouth, her teeth were sharp against her skin as her sobs enveloped her.

She could see her. With her deepest blue, watering, bloodshot, waking eyes; Janeway could see the young woman who had died. And she was comforting her. Seven was on her knees beside her, holding her as she wept.

In the years before her death, Janeway's relationship with the younger woman had developed in a way she knew was not entirely professional.

They did not share the physical closeness that Janeway had secretly desired, but Seven's counsel during times of unrest had become invaluable to the Captain. For Seven had an optimism and a perspective on life which had never ceased to fill Kathryn with hope. And there had been something else behind Seven's warm, blue eyes, something else in her gentle touch.

Kathryn had hoped, she had believed, that it was love. And she had began to lower the boundaries around her own heart in order to receive it. 

For despite her long incarceration in the bowels of the collective, Seven had regained a humanity and a kindness so extraordinary, that in the days and years following her death, the Captain, her widow, the Commander, and her friends had mourned Seven so absolutely, that not even the vast vacuum of space could absorb their pain.

For Chakotay and for Janeway, Seven was life. She was hope. And her sudden and premature death heralded the end of all happiness.

Janeway buried her head into her knees and held herself tightly. She shuddered and moaned. Her face was soggy from her own secretions, and she was sweating.

It was not until after Seven's death that she had admitted to herself, and to know one else, that she had been in love with the younger woman. For only the deepest love could cause such shattering pain. A pain she shared with her first officer, who, as Seven's former husband, had the greater right to mourn.

It had wounded her to know she had caused such pain in her first officer, who, following Seven's death, was never the same man again. For his love for Seven was without rival. And Janeway knew that Seven loved him similarly in turn. 

For how could she have killed the woman she loved, and destroyed the man who had loved them both.

She tried to steady her breathing. Guiltily, she felt Seven's ghost softly stroke her head. And she imagined her lips softly kiss her burning cheek.

It had not been easy being in love with Chakotay's wife, but she had handled it is sensibly as she could have expected from herself; she had acknowledged it, she had allowed it, and she had carried on.

After several long moments spent sniffing, and still whimpering softly, Kathryn began to release slow, steady breaths.

Gathering herself, she raised her wet, red face from her knees, and began aggressively trying to mop her skin with her sleeves.

They were at blue alert. They were about to meet their colleagues and friends. She would see her sister, she would even see Mark.

She swallowed hard,

"Chakotay to Janeway. Captain, we are about to land."

"… Understood, Commander…"

Kathryn's hand groped for the top of the desk and she gradually got to her feet.

Steadying herself upon weak ankles, she closed her aching eyes momentarily and held the desk with both hands.

Continuing to breathe steadily, she summoned the as yet unbreakable final reserves of strength she had always somehow managed to retain throughout her own and her crew's numerous hardships. Strength which maintained her professionalism, and anchored her sanity.

With some effort, her expression rearranged into one of hardened resolve.

Taking a deep breath through her nose, she headed shakily to the replicator and ordered a new uniform, and a small supply of skin cleansing wipes.

She knew she had come to a decision, even without having admitted it to herself yet.

She continued to feel Seven's ghostly presence with her, watching her. 

… How it used to make her melt…

She closed her eyes and shuddered.

Having the presence of mind to know that there was no longer an empty starfield beyond her window but the distant, eager eyes of countless spectators and Starfleet personnel, Janeway ordered the computer to dim the lights. 

She proceeded to hastily get changed.

Seven would undoubtedly disapprove of the plan of action she had rapidly committed to in her mind and heart. But that was no matter.

Kathryn allowed herself a small smile. The ex-drone was not there to argue with her Captain this time. Kathryn would leave her ready room with new resolve, and Seven may still get her chance to stop her. But not yet.

Undressed and stepping into her new uniform, she glanced upwards, her wide eyes registering the distant crowd. She heard distant cheers.

Looking beyond them, up through the unceasing smoke and fireworks, her eyes rolled up to stare into the darkness of space.

Fastening into her fresh, command uniform, she applied the cleansers to her face. They felt cool on her skin.

Sighing softly, she continued to stare still upwards and finally saw the lights of several distant stars glinting back at her.

Her breathing was shallow. She was certain her plan could work. 

Reaching back to her discarded uniform, she unfastened her combadge as well as the four pips which denoted her designation as "Captain". Reattaching the badge to her chest and the pips to her collar, she swiftly sat down and slid back into her heels.

There was a bump. Voyager's landing struts had finally, after so many years, found Earth.

She stood up promptly, but did not turn to view the welcoming party visible from her windows.

She was not surprised to discover she felt no relief or happiness at being back on Earth's soil. But she did now feel an eagerness to get underway with her new mission. And eagerness was a more pleasant feeling than mourning.

Straightening up her uniform, she strode towards her desk where she checked her pale reflection in a small mirror next to her computer terminal..

She looked old. Tired. Her expression hardened once more and she slammed the mirror back onto the desk.

Her age did not matter. As long as there was breath in her body, there was still a chance that Seven's, and the lives of many others, could yet be saved.

The temporal prime directive be damned. Her crew were her responsibility, and if she could find a way to save them sooner, then she would do so.

What consequences there might be… were not her concern.

"… Computer, unseal the doors"

Her voice was strong, purposeful. The computer chimed its acknowledgement, and the Captain of the cursed ship swept unflinchingly and for the last time from her ready room, facing her bridge crew with a commanding smile.

Her decision to try and change the past had filled her with an intense hope. But it would be her secret, and she would have to be subtle.

She caught the eye of her still weary first officer, who smiled enquiringly at her. She returned his smile, raised her voice confidently and declared, "Commander, let's not keep our friends and families waiting."


End file.
